


stubborn love

by floaty_insomniac



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, literally just fanfic of my dnd campaign, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:00:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floaty_insomniac/pseuds/floaty_insomniac
Summary: AU where Dove and Sylvia are college roommates and absolutely hate each other at first. Dove constantly calls her “princess” but in a mocking way as they bicker, and Sylvia grumbles about how impossible and annoying she is.
Relationships: Dove Everhund/Sylvia Kent, Original D&D Character(s)/Original D&D Character(s)





	stubborn love

**Author's Note:**

> Back again with a fic for my homebrew dnd campaign but PLOT TWIST: it’s a College AU now. This one was written in collaboration with my dear friend (and Dove’s player) M. (I say in collaboration but it was mostly her and I am just here for show ;))

Dove pushed the door open roughly, slinging her bag off of one shoulder and onto the floor. Her hair and clothes were disheveled, leaving her looking far from put-together. She ran a hand through her hair, sighing at realization that she reeked of cheap beer. 

This caught Sylvia’s attention, who lifted her head from the assignment she was working on as she was interested in the state of her roommate, especially considering it was 3am. 

Sylvia lightly scoffed, taking a jab at her, “Guess you got lucky.” 

Dove could only reply with a dry laugh as she shrugged it off and ignored the redhead. 

After cleaning her space and lying down for half an hour, she eventually stood from her bed, grabbing a towel and leaving to shower without a word. 

Sylvia huffed, exhausted. As she was closing her laptop, her phone produced a quiet ding. Picking it up, across her screen was a text from Urayol, a girl she met at her english lecture. 

Urayol:   
Hey  
Is Dove okay?

Sylvia frowned, adopting an expression of confusion. Why wouldn’t she be? 

Sylvia:   
Uh, yeah?   
Why?  
She stared at her screen as the three dots appeared and disappeared several times.

Urayol:   
Because she beat the shit out of Barclay

1 Attachment

Her eyebrows knitted together as she tapped on the video, turning the volume up.

Suddenly a blurry image appeared of a dim room, she assumed a house party. Dove’s back could be seen as she stood over a very wasted looking Barclay, as he lay sprawled on the floor.

There’s shouting among the crowd, but an obvious accented voice stuck out.

“You never deserved her,” She spat, “No one does.” Before she lifted a fist and the video cut off.

She sat there, staring at the screen in disbelief before replaying the video several times. After a few moments, she grunted, roughly leaning against the back of her chair and throwing her head back, hands in hair. Suddenly it became apparent to her that the supposed hickeys she thought were scattered across Dove were actually real bruises. 

The sound of the shower shutting off shocked her out of the panic and she quickly closed out of the video on her phone. A few moments later, in walked Dove, lazily rubbing the towel on her messy hair as she walked. Trudging over to her side of the room, she climbed onto the couch, and reached for her journal resting on a desk corner.

The tension filling the room was thick, but Sylvia decided not to beat around the bush. 

“Did you get into a fight?”

Dove chuckled, as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Playing dumb was a favorite tactic of hers. 

“Right… me. Get into a fight.” She laughed again. “I think I was a little too busy for something of that sort.” Dove shrugged it off, seeming unconcerned as she lowered her pen onto the paper. 

Sylvia sat forward in her chair, obviously not convinced. “Oh really? Who was it then?” 

Dove looked up, eyebrows raised and annoyed, “Jesus, Sylvia, what, do you want all the bloody details?” She was pissed at the subject being pressed.

Now the redhead was just as fiery, eyes burning into Dove’s.  
“Why are you being so defensive about it?”

Suddenly she slammed the journal shut, “I’m not!”

Several seconds passed as the two stared into each other’s eyes, expression hard and eye contact unwavering as neither would back down. 

“Fine,” Sylvia spit, standing as she walked over to the couch, “Then let me see.” She crossed her arms, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

An incredulous look covered Dove’s dark features as she stared in shock. “That’s ridiculous!” She claimed, her voice suddenly a higher pitch than usual as she sat up, looking ready to flee at any moment.

Sylvia climbed onto the couch, straddling her legs. Dove leaned up further, but Sylvia placed a hand on each shoulder, pushing her back. “Then let me see.” She continued to stare, unwilling to budge as her hands pressed more firmly into her.

After a short mental battle with herself, Dove sighed heavily, realizing there wasn’t any chance at getting out of this.

She stared at the ground for a moment before ever so slowly reaching for her shirt and slowly peeling it off. Her face remained expressionless as Sylvia’s eyes wandered the surface of her skin, bruises littering the dark skin.

She brought a trembling hand to the bruises as she lightly ran her hand over them. In the quietest of voices, she whispered, “Why’d you fight him?” Her eyes refused to meet Dove’s, “He could’ve really hurt you.”

“I warned him,” she mumbled looking away, her voice now slightly hoarse, “told him to keep your name out of his filthy mouth. He didn’t want to listen.”

Sylvia retracted her hand, finally meeting her eyes. “Oh please. I can handle whatever it is he has to say about me.” She rolled her eyes, “What do you care anyways? He’s just ‘my dumbass boyfriend’ as you’ve said on several occasions.”

Dove stared at the ground, jaw set. “Yeah, you’re right. What do I care anyway? Guess I just wanted a reason to punch a douchebag.” She leaned back onto one hand, the other making its way through her damp hair.

“So that’s it? There’s no other reason?” She scooted off Dove’s lap and onto her own spot on the couch, making a move to stand and walk away. “You know I have to deal with this now, right? There’s a video of you fighting him going around.”

Sitting forward, Dove sat up on the edge of the couch, now actually looking at her. “Well maybe it just pisses me off to see you with someone who doesn’t think twice about you.” She rolled her eyes, “and fuck the video. I’ll take care of it.”

“I suppose you’ll be happy to know I’m not ‘with’ him anymore then. We broke up. For real this time.” She kicked a stray shoe on the floor. “I’m dropping off a box of his stuff tomorrow.”

Suddenly she was startled out of her kicking upon thinking about the second half of Dove’s reply. “Hold on, what do you mean ‘you’ll take care of it’? Damn near a hundred people have already seen it by now!”

Dove leaned back, draping a hand along the back of the couch, “Well if you’re not with him, then it isn’t your problem to worry about, now is it? It was my fight, not yours. No need to be so worked up, princess.”

Sylvia huffed. “I hate it when you do that.” She stood up and started to walk away before pausing, and then turning back, getting in Dove’s face. “You forget that you’ve made it my problem when you used me as your reason to swing on him. I am NOT a princess and I certainly don’t need a white knight to defend me.”

Dove leaned forward, not backing down, and spat, “Well if i’m such an inconvenience to you, then maybe I should just leave.”

“Fine then. Go.” She made the mistake of looking down at Dove’s lips, which were incredibly close to hers. “Try not to beat anyone else’s exes up.”

Dove squeezed her own fists, feeling her nails press into her palms. She stood, her eyes never leaving Sylvia’s. Now slightly looking down at her, she paused, face stern. “Tell me you want me to leave.” Her eyes flicked down before coming back up to her eyes.

Sylvia raised a hand like she was going to smack Dove, instead grabbing a fistful of her shirt and kissing her fervently. Letting go after barely a second, she stammered.  
“I’m sorry I don’t know why I did that.” She hardly had enough time to get the words out before Dove pulled her back in. 

A free hand tangled into Dove’s hair; an unused arm circled Sylvia’s waist. They finally broke apart, both breathing heavily. Sylvia whispered, “Don’t leave.”

Dove lightly rested her forehead against Sylvia's, her chest rapidly rising and falling. “I don’t think I could even if I tried,” she breathed out, pulling Sylvia closer, as if scared to let go. “Not that I’d want to.”

It wasn't long before the pair fell asleep on the couch, entirely entwined and relaxed.


End file.
